


Peter meets The Avengers

by TonyStankandPetieBoi



Series: Irondad And Spiderson [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Also i think we all know Peter can’t glare without looking like an angry kitten, Also thanos is a big purple turd, But adoptively, Gen, He needs the comfort, How can you not??, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I mean, Not biologically, Peter will get hurt, Tony stank is peter’s dad, also endgame no exist, he’s a cinnamon roll, never heard of it, peter meets the avengers, they all love him, what is it? I don’t know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27023197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyStankandPetieBoi/pseuds/TonyStankandPetieBoi
Summary: Peter meets all of the Avengers. When i say all of them, i mean, all of them, even Nick Fury and Carol Danvers, because every single tough, mighty avenger needs to meet the cinnamon roll, fluffy boi that is Peter Parker.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Thor, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Irondad And Spiderson [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995022
Comments: 25
Kudos: 536





	1. Thor

**Author's Note:**

> I do hope you enjoy, I don’t know who will be in the next chapter, probably rhodey, also, this takes place in my world where infinity war and endgame never happened. It is short, but maybe the next ones will get longer, who knows.

The glass door blasting open was what awoke him, head shifting from where it lay, resting against Tony’s shoulder. He brought a hand up to wipe the drool from his chin, mumbling sleepily as he blinked up to the now open door. Wind rushed in, making him shiver, he pulled his jumper up higher, snuggling further into the soft fabric. He stared up, transfixed by the man now standing there, long blonde hair down to his shoulders, decked out with black clothes, red cape blowing in the harsh wind. The man smiled at him, swinging the object in his hand and dumping it unceremoniously onto the table. Tony didn’t wake from the loud bang as the metal collided with the shatterproof glass coffee table. No, he just snored away, head resting on the back of the sofa.

Peter smiled tiredly up at his mentor before letting his eyes drift toward the man now standing in the room. The man lifted a brow in question, “you must be Peter Stark’son.” He stretched an arm out, offering his hand out for Peter to shake. Peter instantly shook his head, jumping to his feet and grasping the man’s hand, “No! Mr. Stark’s not my father! He’s- he’s just my mentor/boss/friend, it’s complicated. Wait, are you Thor? Like- Thor god of thunder?” His face is a picture, eyes filled to the brim with wonder and excitement. 

“Yes child, I am Thor Odinson, the god of thunder and the king of asgard.” He smiles warmly, puffing his chest out a little and shaking Peter’s hand. Peter smiles back, shaking even firmer. He breaks the hold though to let out a loud yawn, mouth widening as his eyes flutter shut for a second, he stumbles on his feet, swaying tiredly. Thor steadies him with a hand, placing it gently on Peter’s shoulder, “Go back to sleep little one.” He guides Peter back onto the sofa, sitting him down back in the position he was in when Thor entered. Peter smiled, letting his eyes drift shut as he snuggled into Tony’s side, Tony’s arm subconsciously wound it’s way around his body, pulling him in.

Peter’s snores were soon filling the room, Thor smiled down at the sleeping boy. Thor quietly left the room, leaving the hammer on the coffee table and making his way to his quarters.


	2. Rhodey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets Rhodey, in the most explosive way possible.

Peter’s eyes fluttered open, he snuggled his head further into the warm solid object beside him, blinking to wake himself up. The arm tightened around him, pulling him in further, Peter let it, snuggling further into the warmth engulfing him. Tony grunted, lifting his head and peering down at him, Peter blinked, glancing up at him. He jolted then, “M-Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you!” He jumps up, scooting further away from Tony.

Tony chuckles, “It’s ok kid, I don’t mind.” He places a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder, pulling him back down onto the sofa and fitting him in the space underneath his arm. “I don’t honestly feel like getting up just yet Pete, so just go back to sleep and don’t worry about it, yeah?”

Peter nods, “Sure Mr. Stark.” He yawns wide, before letting his eyes drift shut, head slowly sliding down Tony’s shoulder before resting against his chest. The firm beat of Tony’s heart, a staccato playing in his ears. It comforts him as he nods off, body drifting back into sleep.

•—•

He sips the cup of coffee, steam floating into his face and warming the skin across his cheeks and his forehead. He scrunches his nose from the pungent smell of the strong coffee grounds, he doesn’t particularly like black coffee, but it’s the only thing that wakes him up of a morning. Not that he even bothers to go to sleep most nights, but he does for Pete, knowing that the boy is safe and sound, snug in his arms. He knows he’s a borderline insomniac, but the kid seems to be helping with it. He always makes sure Tony goes to sleep, even if that means launching himself onto the man like a monkey and settling over his body like a rock. It warms Tony’s heart to know the kid cares that much, and to feel the warm body pressed up against him. Peter’s like a son to him, a son he never had, and he’s the dad Peter never had.

Peter’s currently sitting at the workbench, head bent down as he envelops himself in the challenge of solving a problem with his project. Much like himself in ways, always eager to fix something, even if it meant losing sleep in his own case. Peter was always trying to get him to break the habit, even though Peter himself was never good with getting enough sleep. They were both as bad as each other, but somehow, focusing on each other just made it better. Tony just chuckles to himself, sipping his coffee as he leaves the room in search of a breakfast for him and Peter.

The soldering iron sizzles as the tip connects with the solder, heat melting the metal attached to the circuit board. Peter doesn’t hear anything happening around him, too focused on the problem he needs to fix. He doesn’t hear the door to the workshop sliding open, or the person that stumbles into the room. It’s not until he hears a shout and he feels someone’s arm slip around his throat, that he realises what’s happening around him. Harsh words are whispered in his ear as the soldering iron slips out of his hand, falling onto his tattered jeans instead of the workbench. “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in Tony’s lab?!” The man’s arm tightens, forcefully cutting into his airway as the hot metal melts through the fabric of his jeans and scorches the flesh of his thigh. Peter shouts out, flailing against the man behind him. He doesn’t dare use his super strength though, he’s only Peter Parker, not spider-man.

This was not what he expected to come back to, hands full of pastries and a mug full of sugary milky coffee for Peter. He scrambles to place his retrieved items onto the table by the side of his lab, rushing to pull Rhodey back from strangling his kid to death. “Rhodes! Stop!” He clasps a hand over his shoulder, waiting for his arms to relax, they do not. 

“Why?! He could be anyone! Do you know him?” He turns a suspicious glare Tony’s way.

“Of course i know him, he’s my intern! Now let go of him, he’s hurt.” Tony sighs exasperatedly, pulling Rhodey back once his muscles relax and he lets go of Peter. 

Peter gasps in air, in gulps, chest heaving as the pain in his leg throbs, burnt flesh zinging with fresh pain. He doesn’t want to look down, not when he can already smell the burnt skin. He feels a comforting arm slide around his shoulder, squeezing his arm. “M-mr. Stark?”

Tony nods, gripping Peter’s chin until he looks him in the eyes, “You ok bud? Where’re you hurt?” 

Peter nods his chin in the direction of his lap, scrunching his eyes, so as to not have to look at the damage. He knows Tony gets the picture because he feels two strong hands grip his leg and pull the denim away from the wound. He hears his mentor whistle, “That’s a pretty bad burn you got there bambino.” Tony pats his knee before standing, “I’m just gonna go get some supplies and I’ll bandage that up for you Pete. Would you guys like to get to know each other while i’m gone? Without trying to kill each other?” 

Rhodey sighs, looking down at the floor. “Sorry Tones.”

“It’s ok Platypus, just try not to kill my kid next time, huh?” Tony chuckles to himself as he exits the room, chuckling even harder as he hears Rhodey shout after him.

“Wait, He’s your son?!”

•—•

“So——— your name’s Pete?” Rhodey shuffles closer to him, watching as Peter steps out of the office chair he’d been sitting in, he steadies Peter when he puts weight on his leg, stumbling slightly from the pain. 

“Um no, my name’s Peter, Mr. Stark likes to shorten it sometimes, or he’ll give me nicknames, they’re ok, but I rather prefer my name to be honest. Uh- what’s your name sir?” Peter stares sheepishly up at the man standing by the side of the lab, seemingly as far away from him as possible. 

“It’s James, James Rhodes, but Tony never calls me by my name either, it can be rather annoying after a while, but I’ve grown kinda fond of his nicknames for me.”

Peter’s eyes widen, like a deer caught in headlights, “Wait.. your James Rhodes- the James Rhodes, like, colonel James Rhodes, the Iron Patriot?!” Peter pales slightly, the adrenaline sapping from his body, the shock of realising who “Rhodey” was, taking too much energy from his body.

Rhodey jumps from where he’s standing, looping an arm around the boy’s back when he sways, “I sure am kid, you’re not looking too good though, I think you should sit back down.”

Peter nods breathlessly, “I think you could be right there Mr. Colonel Rhodes sir.”

“You don’t have to call me that ya know, you can just call me Rhodey, it’s what everyone else does.” 

“Ok Mr. Rhodey.” Peter’s smile is all cheek, that little twinkle in his eye.

“Well it’s better than before, so are you actually Tony’s son?” His face is genuinely serious, and Peter can’t help but let out a laugh.

“No, I'm not, I'm just his intern. And from all the things Mr. Stark has said about you, don’t you think you’d know if he’d ever had a kid?” 

Rhodey looks like he’s thinking for a second before he shrugs, “You’ve got a point kid.” 

The door sliding open breaks them out of their conversation, Tony shuffling in with the first aid kit held in a calloused hand. “Did you guys manage to kill each other while I was gone?”

Peter smiles, shaking his head “No Mr. Stark, we’re both alive.” 

Tony gasps dramatically, “That’s a relief, now show me that leg.” He drops the kit onto the workbench, kneeling in front of Peter’s who’s perched on his office chair. Peter lifts the leg until Tony can get a good view of the injury. “That’s quite deep Pete, I think you’ve burnt down to the second layer.” Tony’s brows are furrowed as he gently swipes his thumb over the skin around the edge of the burn, squinting to get a good look at the wound. He opens up the first aid kit, pulling out some burn cream, a bandaid, some bandages and a pair of scissors.

He’s already cutting through the denim of Peter’s jeans, before his protege can even protest, he just stutters out a whiney “No!” Tony just ignored him, cutting all the way up to the thigh of his jeans.

“I think you know I can always buy you more.” He quirks an eyebrow, pulling the parts of Peter’s jeans to the side, exposing the scorched skin. The smell of burnt flesh permeates through the air, Peter would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel a bit nauseous. 

Peter sighs, rolling his eyes “That’s not the point Mr. Stark.” 

Tony doesn’t say anything, just gets back to the task at hand, jerking when the scissors are gently pulled from his hand by Rhodey who’s now kneeling by his side and passing him the burn cream. 

Peter’s overwhelmed now, by the two adults now swarming him with attention, both now staring at the wound on his thigh. He squirms, embarrassed, hoping this will be over soon.

Tony squirts some of the cream onto his fingers, tapping on Peter’s knee with his other hand. “Can you look at me Pete?” 

Peter’s gaze shifts from the burn mark on his thigh to the chocolate brown orbs staring concerningly up at him. He hums in agreement, swaying dizzily as he makes eye contact with his mentor. 

“This is gonna hurt Pete, not gonna lie. But Rhodey here is gonna distract you, ok? Just keep your eyes on him, it’ll be over soon, I’ll try to be as quick as possible.” Tony’s eyes stare piercingly at him, waiting for him to give him the go ahead.

Peter just nods, “It’s ok Mr. Stark, it’s just a burn, it doesn’t even hurt that much, I’m fine.” He still looks to Rhodey though, even though he’s trying to show to Tony that he’s strong and he can take the pain. Even though silently the sharp pain throbbing underneath his skin, makes him scream inside his head. The inside Peter, figuratively gripping his hair and pulling with all the strength he has.

Rhodey smiles sympathetically, knowing what Peter’s doing, after having to watch Tony do it so many times throughout the time he’s known him. “Hey Pete, how are you doing bud?”

The smile that grows on Peter’s face is laced with pain, something Rhodey’s attuned to noticing in certain people’s faces. “I’m fine Mr. Rhodey.” He gives a small nod, trying his best at a reassuring smile, not succeeding exactly the way he wants to. Especially when at the exact same time, the cool burn cream is rubbed into his skin, albeit gently. It makes him hiss, feeling for all the world like someone’s rubbing hot coals into his skin. He clenches his eyes shut in pain, waiting while Mr. Stark diligently rubs the cream into the burn. He’s trying to ignore the pain when he feels a calloused hand slip into his, squeezing gently. 

“You can squeeze it kid, it helps, trust me.” He smiles reassuringly, waiting for the kid to squeeze back, Peter does, but so gently Rhodey barely feels it. “You can squeeze harder, kid.” Peter smiles sheepishly, hand tightening to a painful grip around Rhodey’s hand. 

“Also, you don’t have to call me Mr. Pete, you can call me Rhodey, or if you don’t like that, just call me James. I don’t mind.” He squeezes back gently, it’s a struggle though, from how tight Peter’s grip already is.

Peter sighs “Ok, R-Rhodey.” 

The silence is uncomfortable, the itch burning underneath Peter’s skin becomes almost unbearable, he can’t stop himself. Letting out a sheepish and quiet ,”Sir.” 

Rhodey chuckles, “I don’t know how you have such good manners kid, no kid I’ve ever met has been that polite. But the Mr. And the Sir just makes me feel old.”

“You’re not that old Rhodey, if i made a guess, i would’ve said that you’re not a day over 30.” His smile is completely sincere, no deception in his face. 

Rhodey shakes his head, “You don’t gotta flatter me kid, ‘sides, it’s over now, you’re all bandaged up.” He releases Peter’s hand, standing up on stiff knees. “Anyway, I gotta go, It was nice meeting you kid, sorry i tried to kill you. I get a little protective over my family. I hope to see you around, Pete.”

Peter nods shakily, “I hope so too Rhodey, it’s ok that you tried to kill me, I understand what it’s like to be protective over the people you love.” 

When the lab doors swing shut after him, Tony decides to speak up, “So, you okay Pete?”

“Are you serious?! Of course I’m ok, I just met the Iron Patriot Mr. Stark!! And he held my hand, that was embarrassing.” His face goes from absolutely ecstatic to grumbling within seconds.

Tony chuckles, stepping forward and patting Peter on the shoulder, “While you fanboy over meeting Rhodey, i’m gonna find you another pair of jeans. Do you wanna watch a movie after?” 

Nodding Peter sits up on his chair, “Do I get to pick the movie?”

“Of course Bambi.”

•—•

“Um, Mr. Stark, I need a place to put the popcorn but Mr. Thor’s hammer is in the way, do you think he’d mind if I moved it?” Peter stares questioningly up at Tony with his doe eyes, completely unaware of the fact that you have to be worthy to pick up the hammer. 

“Sure, I don’t think he’d mind, kid.” He chuckles to himself, knowing that Peter wouldn’t be able to pick it up. 

The dull metal thud of the hammer being placed down makes him whip his head round, seeing that it’s moved from its place at the middle of the table. “Wait, you just moved it?” 

Peter stares at him worriedly, “Yeah, you said I could, was I not supposed to? Were you joking with me? Oh no- oh god-“

“I wasn’t joking, It’s nothing, don’t worry.” He places a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder, dragging him towards the couch and sitting him down. They watch the movie, a smug smile on his face the whole way through, accompanied by the words “My kid is worthy.” Floating around in his head, in a continuous loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do irondad and spiderson prompts!  
> You can ask me here in the comments, or on my tumblr!  
> [TonyStankandPetieBoy](https://tonystankandpeteyboi.tumblr.com)


	3. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’ll explain for itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t tell me Steve doesn’t get them too, cause that would be bullsh*t. Anyway, have fun reading, also, if any of you are interested, im writing an irondad and spiderson 5+1 fic with lots of hurt Peter ;)

The minute he opened his eyes he knew today was gonna be a bad day, he could hear the cars halfway across the city beeping their horns and revving their engines. The sheets on his bed scraping roughly across his skin, to him it felt like sandpaper. He could smell the burnt pancakes May was making, the scent was so strong it made him nauseous. He could even smell the gas from the gas station a couple miles away, his head throbbed painfully. He had no idea how he was gonna make it through the day. 

He only barely made it through school, wincing harshly with every ring of the bell, scrape of a chair. The sickly smell of the gross coffee that the teachers drank, every click of a pen or the loud drag of the nib across the paper. He couldn’t take it, every noise or smell made it feel like his heart was pounding inside his head. Even the sound of his own harsh breaths made him wince in pain, but he had to take it, he had to deal. He was spiderman, this was something he could get through, this would be easy (it won’t be).

He didn’t bother to wait around for Ned so he could say goodbye, the minute the black car pulled up in front of the school, he was swinging the door open and throwing himself into the car. Having to swallow down the vomit he could feel rising up his throat from the movement. He didn’t try to smile or engage in some kind of conversation with Happy, he just clenched his eyes shut and tried to ignore everything. (It’s not as easy as it sounds.)

“You okay kid?” Happy didn’t bother to hide the lack of enthusiasm or concern in his tone, just asked the question, probably because it was his job. To take him to the tower from the school on lab days, and to make sure Peter was ok. 

He just hummed, not giving an answer of more than one syllable, he didn’t think he was capable of anything more. Or that he could take the earth shattering sound of one more word, uttered from his mouth. It hurt so much more when he was the one speaking. So he didn’t. To avoid the pain, he didn’t have the energy or the pain tolerance to explain that part to anyone. 

“Sure kid.” Happy just sighed, knowing he wouldn’t get anything more out of him, pressing the button and grinning satisfactorily as the awkwardness of speaking to and having to look at the kid faded. He just drove towards the tower, ironically in the opposite fashion to his name. 

When they arrived, Peter didn’t bounce out like he usally would, not having the energy to buzz with excitement as he ran up the steps towards the tower, practically throwing himself through the doors. No, he just slumped awkwardly out of the car door, having to grip the car roof with such force that he heard the metal creak in order to keep himself upright. He trudged slowly up the steps, only barley managing to stumble through the door with the pain splicing his head open. 

He didn’t even say anything to Friday as he entered the elevator, just lethargically slapped the right button that would take him to the penthouse, he couldn’t handle lab day, and Mr. Stark was always waiting on his floor instead of in the lab. He always had to make sure Peter had a snack and a drink before he started working in the lab, he had enough thought to think of Peter, but seemingly not enough to think of himself. 

The doors slid open, he stumbled out unsteadily, wincing with every step he took. He only barely managed to chuck his bag onto the floor, grunting in pain when the sound shattered into his eardrums. “Mr. Stark? I don’t think I’m up for a lab day today.” He surveyed the surrounding penthouse with squinted eyes, they opened slightly wider but not by much when his eyes landed on none other than Steve Rogers aka Captain America. “Oh, Y-you’re not Mr. Stark.”

“No, I’m not, who are you?” Unlike Rhodey, he didn’t jump for his throat, he just stood there calmly taking him in, eyes squinted slightly as he tried to suss out whether Peter was some kind of threat. 

Peter just squinted his eyes back in unison, “I’m Mr. Stark’s personal intern, Peter, what are you doing on his floor? He never lets people up here unless they’re close to him or he trusts them.”

Steve just smirked, “I was just looking for him, I need him to fix something for me, but he’s not here. Apparently he was called away on business, something about a meeting.” 

The words were steadily becoming too much, each breath he took louder than the last, every syllable more painful than the last. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the sound his skin made when the dead cells fell, shedding from his eyelids. He could hear everything, it was too much, too much. 

He hadn’t realised he was saying that out loud until a firm hand was grasping his shoulder and the weakly shouted words registered in his ears. “It’s too much!”

“You’re enhanced aren’t you?” Steve was surveying him with worried eyes, and a stare of understanding. 

Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his identity a secret from everyone. But he wasn’t about to just give it away, Captain America was gonna have to work for it. “I’m from Queens.”

It took some time for the words to finally click in Steve’s mind, just whispering out the words “Spider-Man.” In shock. “Wait how old are you?!”

“Fifteen, ‘m gonna be ‘ixteen next year though.” Peter weakly tried to answer with all the strength he had. 

“You’re having a sensory overload aren’t you kid.” Steve arched an eyebrow.

“Mmhmm.” Peter didn’t bother opening his eyes this time. 

“Do you have any headphones? Did Stark ever make anything to help you with this?” Steve asked without touching Peter, knowing every touch felt like something burning into your skin. 

“No, I never told him.” Peter slid onto the couch, trying his hardest not to wince as he sunk into the cushions. 

Steve didn’t bother trying to tell Peter what he was going to get, knowing how painful words were, he just left to find his noise cancelling headphones. 

He came back with them in hand, softly pulling the headphones on Peter’s head, “Friday could you turn the lights down?” 

“Of course Mr. Rogers.”

The lights instantly dimmed, plunging the both of them into a comfortable darkness. Steve watched the boy relax slowly, breathing evening out as he fell asleep. Steve smiled at how cute the boy looked, curled up around himself and quietly snoring. “No wonder Stark keeps you a secret.” He couldn’t hold himself back from slipping a gentle hand into the chocolate brown curls, threading his fingers through the strands and lightly scratching at his scalp.

He steps back after a while, walking out of the penthouse to go and find bucky, completely forgetting about what it was he wanted fixing. He just smiles contentedly to himself, knowing that Peter has to be the cutest person he’s ever met.


	4. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets Natasha, teaches her some things, and she teaches him some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, but here we go:  
> I hope you enjoy :)

“Why are you drinking cold coffee? What’s the point if it’s not warm?” Peter’s incredulous look doesn’t pierce through Tony’s no shame demeanor. 

“The caffeine young buck, you can’t waste caffeine, it keeps me going. I pay a lot of money for this stuff, I'll drink it cold or warm, I'll even eat it if someone makes it into a solid. I don’t care.” He doesn’t spare a glance in Peter’s direction, focusing on the equations that he can see over the lip of his mug. They dance like twinkling lights in his vision, blurry and unfocused. He guesses it’s because of having ingested too much caffeine. But that doesn’t phase him, he’s ok with the blurry vision, at least it means he doesn’t have to sleep. He can’t take waking up in his own sweat anymore, shaking as he tries to regain control of his breathing. He can take short naps, not long enough to induce a nightmare, but long enough to get some form of rest. 

“I’m pretty sure you have a problem, but there’s no way you’re gonna let me help you with that. I’ll find a way though, just you wait.” Peter smirks, the mischievous determination written across his face. Tony doesn’t wait to look at it for long though, whacking Peter lightly across the back of his head. 

“Damn you for trying to help me.” 

Peter chuckles, laughing at Tony’s self deprecating sense of humour, it’s something Peter can relate to, having one himself. 

Clearing his throat Peter stands, “I better be going though, Aunt May wants me to buy stuff from the grocers before I go home, so I should leave now.” 

“I can drive you if you want?” Tony stands too, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder before ruffling his fluffy curls. 

Peter chuckles, ducking underneath and away from the hand. “Nah, i’ll be fine.” 

Tony sighs, “Well, if you’re sure.” Peter walks to the door, standing with his palm just resting on the doorframe. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, we're still on for lab day?” 

“You bet kid.” The smile that worms it’s way onto his face, is full of fondness and love. Peter can’t help but smile back, patting the doorframe once before retreating from the room. “Bye Mr. Stark!” 

“Bye kid.”

•—•

The lights barely worked, dimly lighting the inside of the grocers. Peter walked past the refrigerated section,  
Picking up the bottle of milk and plopping it into his basket as he walked past. There was only one other person on the aisle he was in, her ombre hair with red roots and white tips pulled neatly back into a plait. He watched her cautiously, even though he knew she wasn’t a threat, the back of his neck not tingling as she walked closer. But he still liked to be aware of his surroundings and who he was with, never too careful, not with what happened to his uncle the last time they went into a grocers together. For his uncle it had been the last time he’d ever entered a grocers even by himself, seeing as he’d died in Peter’s arms right after. Something Peter never lets himself forget. 

She seems to be in her own world, browsing the shelves in front of her, more importantly the vast collection of jams. She looks familiar but Peter can’t place where he could have seen her before. He’s not very good at remembering faces, unlike Happy who could remember the face of the person he walked past on the street ten years ago. That man is a mystery, but Peter loves him all the same, grumpy exterior and all.

He passes her, turning into the next aisle, ready to pick up a carton of eggs so he can inspect them. But there’s a crash as the door to the grocers swings open, the flimsy glass window breaking in a flurry of glass. A man wearing a black ski mask and holding a revolver shoves his way in, shouldering people out of the way in his haste to get to the counter. Peter drops his basket onto the floor next to him, crouching down low enough so the man can’t see him, but Peter can see him. The man shouts at the clerk behind the counter, “Give me all the money!” He points the gun over the counter at the clerk, but he doesn’t move to get the money, clearly in shock. 

It’s obvious that the man wearing the ski mask has lost his patience because he jabs the end of the barrel hard into the man’s temple. “I said, give me all the money. Now move or i’ll blow your brains out!” The man complies, scurrying to click open the cash register and fumbling to grasp all the bills and shove them into a flimsy carrier bag. The man looks skittish, holding the gun in position whilst staring out into the street. Peter has enough of watching after a few minutes, tip toeing his way to the front of the store. He doesn’t stand up, trying to scope out the best course of action.

But the flash of red and white that wips past him to the left, stops any thought he had of trying to intervene. He looks up and sees the woman he passed, launching herself toward the man in the ski mask, swiping a leg underneath his, toppling him backwards onto the floor with a bang. Peter, always the one for no violence unless necessary, charges up, pushing his way through the gap in the aisle and grabbing the woman by the upper arm. “You didn’t need to do that, talking to people is always an option.”

“He had a gun to someone’s head, talking only leads the person to become stressed and then they act too quickly. He would have shot that man within a few minutes. I know what I’m doing.” The lady turns from where she was looking, standing defensively before him, face impassive. 

Peter sighs, “Well, I don’t always see the need for violence, if you can talk people down, what’s the point in hurting them?” 

She stares at him for a few moments, tilting her head in contemplation, sizing him up, trying to figure him out. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“No.” He’s now even more confused, he has no idea who she is, yet she’s so familiar. He shakes his head, hoping she’ll tell him, so he doesn’t have to stand here clueless. 

She smiles but it never reaches her eyes, “I’m Natasha Romanoff, I was on the news, i’m a spy. I don’t talk unless i’m trying to get information.” 

Something clicks, the picture finally widening, her identity finally flashing in big red letters in his mind. “Oh my, your black widow! That’s why I thought I recognised you!” She doesn’t seem to be impressed with his fanboy-ish nature, but his attention doesn’t stay on her for too long. The tingling in his neck growing into a full on throb, he glances to the side in time to see the man in the ski mask pull himself up. He raises the gun in his hand to point to Natasha, he fires, the bullet already flying through the air towards her. He doesn’t think, sprinting towards her, arms outstretched, he pushes. She tumbles backwards, but she never hits the floor, gracefully rolling backwards until she’s stood before Peter, not a single hair out of place. Peter doesn’t get long to swoon over how amazingly ninja like she is, before the bullet hits him in the right side of the chest. He doesn’t feel it, the adrenaline still rushing through his body preventing him from feeling anything other than shock. 

They stand there for a few moments, before the pain finally hits, agony washing over him in waves. His knees give in and they hit the floor, he gasps, trying to breathe, but his right lung doesn’t play ball. It barely expands and all Peter can do is kneel on the floor and gape like a fish. He stares down at the blood now rapidly soaking the white fabric of his t-shirt. He randomly thinks to himself, Aunt May should only have to wash blood off her own clothes, not his. He’s not a nurse, there’s no reason for there to be blood on his shirt, Aunt May shouldn’t have to clean this, not after Uncle Ben.

He doesn’t get long to dwell on that though, when Natasha is suddenly in front of him, eyes wide and full of panic. She’s gently pushing him to lay on the floor, he takes a glance around the store, seeing the man in the ski mask laying on the floor in a heap of limbs, unconscious or dead, he doesn’t know. She pulls his shirt up, exposing the bullet wound to the cool air, he shivers and flinches away when she rips off her jacket and bundles it up, pushing it onto the wound and pressing down with all her might. He hisses at the pain, but he knows she’s just applying pressure. “You gotta lay still, I’m gonna call 911.”

“No, no don’t.” He can barely hear himself say it, so it’s a wonder when she turns her head to look at him, that she managed to. 

She stares at him for a few seconds, confused. “Why not? You need medical treatment, the only place that can give you that is the hospital.”

Peter moans, “They can’t.” He takes deep breaths to try and gain control of the pain, “You have to call Tony, call Tony.”

“Who’s tony?” 

“Check my phone.” He fumbles around in his pockets for a few moments, finally grabbing his phone. He unlocks it with trembling fingers, opening the contacts and gently placing it in her hand. She ignores him for a few seconds, before she’s already dialing one of the numbers, phone held up to her ear. It rings for a few seconds before it clicks and a voice sounds out of the phone, she freezes.

“Did you decide you actually wanted that lift? Because I’m only a few minutes out, it doesn’t take long to drive places when you’re a multi billionaire.” Tony doesn’t even have a clue about what’s happening, whereas Natasha looks utterly dumbfounded, confused as to why a random teenager has Tony stark saved as a contact on their phone. That they’re on very good speaking terms, and how the teenager literally wanted to call him for help.

“Tony?” She sounds so confused that it makes Peter wince, he doesn’t want it to be the bad kind of confused. He doesn’t want her to be suspicious enough of him, so that she sees him as a threat. But he can’t be much of one now, not with a hole in his lung and bubbly red liquid leaking from the hole in his lung. 

He can hear the confusion in Tony’s tone as he answers, “Natasha? How do you have Peter’s phone?”

“I think a better question would be, how the hell do you know this boy. You aren’t the type of person to be friends with random teenagers?” She sounds angry, Peter guesses it’s because she doesn’t know who he is. She’s a spy, he can understand how it would be frustrating not to know something about someone. 

The growl that sounds through the phone scares Peter, it makes him shiver involuntarily. “I don’t think it’s any of your business whether I’m friends with a teenager. But that doesn’t seem to be the most important thing right now, seeing as you have said teenager’s phone. So tell me what the fuck is wrong, right now, or i’ll track the phone myself.”

She seems to remember that he’s here, finally looking over. Her eyes widen though when she sees the amount of blood now soaking his shirt. He can feel it soaking the floor under his back, it’s warm and sticky and he can’t breathe and he can’t speak. But she can, so she does it for him. “Um, well, said teenager , decided to jump in front of a bullet in a grocers. And it went into the right side of his chest, and I think it’s punctured his lung.” She sounds scared, but he can’t understand why. 

That is until he hears the strangled growl that comes through the phone. “I’m coming, I’m taking a suit. Don’t move him, and give him the phone.”

She complies, gently placing the phone in his hand. She helps him lift his arm when she sees him try and it barely moves. “Hey Mr. Stark.”

He sounds weak even to his own ears, “Hey bud, am I back to Mr. Stark now? It’s that bad huh?”

He nods but then he realises that he can’t see him nod. “Yeah. It- it hurts.” He whimpers, talking seems to just make it worse, the throbbing in his chest increasing the more he moves.

“I’m coming bud, it’s ok. Just hold on, Natasha’s with you, it’ll be fine. Just hold on ok? Hold on for me, i’m five minutes out.” He sounds desperate, desperate for Peter to stay awake, to stay alive. Peter can’t promise that he will, so he doesn’t, just lies awake listening to Mr. Stark’s worried rambling. Laying underneath Natasha’s piercing yet worried and concerned gaze. She seems affectionate of him, he doesn’t know why though, he’s nothing special, why should she care about him?

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, it feels like hours, days, years, before Mr. Stark flies through the doorway. Iron man suit retreating back into the arc reactor on his chest, he marches towards him, speed in his step. It takes him a matter of seconds until he’s by Peter’s side, already falling to his knees next to him. He swipes the stray curls off his forehead, curling his fingers gently through the chocolate locks atop his head. He chuckles mirthlessly, “I knew I should’ve made you let me give you a lift. This always happens to you, doesn’t it bud?”

Peter chooses not to speak, only letting out a broken whimper and weakly reaching out a palm to touch Mr. Stark’s hand that’s leant on the floor. Mr. Stark is quick to touch back, gripping his hand in a tight hold, linking their fingers together and giving Peter as much comfort as possible. “We gotta get you to the medbay alright bambino?” 

Peter hums, closing his eyes and letting himself finally rest, knowing now that Mr. Stark is with him. But someone presses harder on the wound in his chest, “You have to stay awake Peter.” It’s Natasha, he blinks his eyes back open, taking in the worried look she’s shooting his way. He doesn’t get long to lay there though, before Mr. Stark clad in his iron man armour is lifting him up off the floor and into his arms. His head coming to rest on Mr. Stark’s chest, a strong metal gauntlet bringing one of his own hands to press against the bullet hole in his chest. He whines at the pain, bucking weakly against it. “Shhh, shhhh, you have to keep the pressure kiddo. I’m sorry.” 

Peter sobs, having had enough of the pain, he looks back weakly to stare at Natasha. She looks back before she jumps up, gripping the arm of the iron man suit and wrapping her legs around the waist of the suit. “Mind if I hitch a ride?”

“No problem, as long as you keep the pressure on Pete’s chest so he doesn’t have to.” Mr. Stark says. 

She doesn’t reply, just winds an arm through the gap between Peter and the iron man chest to press against the hole. 

•—•

It only takes a couple of minutes to make the journey, but Peter’s already on the verge of unconsciousness. Eyes blinking weakly and desperately trying to stay awake, but failing. He finally lets himself fall asleep when he’s placed gently onto a bed. Chaos ensuing around him, people rushing back and forth, tearing his clothes off and strapping things to his chest. 

Tony stands to the side, watching his kid be manhandled by doctors and nurses, Cho calling out orders and demands. There’s blood on his hands, both literally and figuratively, if he had only gone with Peter, maybe he wouldn’t have been injured. But there’s no use thinking like that, it won’t solve anything, it won’t make Peter better, dwelling on things just makes it worse. But Tony doesn’t care, he knows he should’ve been there. He should’ve.

“So how do you know him?” Natasha asks, she’s been standing there next to him, staring at him for a while.

Tony doesn’t really know what to say, knees weak and hands trembling. He ignores her for the moment, stumbling out of the room and plopping himself on a couch in the hallway outside. She follows dutifully, sitting next to him and waiting patiently for him to respond. “It’s a long story, he’s my intern. I don’t want to tell you how I met him though, that’s a story for another time. When Peter’s here to tell me that I can tell you. I don’t want to say anything without his consent.”

She nods along, before a certain understanding falls across her face, “He’s your son isn’t he?”

The laugh that escapes Tony’s throat is hysterical, pained yet loud and happy. She knows he’s hit the peak of emotional distress. “No! He’s not my son! Why would you think that?” He laughs even harder, lour guffaws breaking the tense silence of the corridor. Before they turn to heart breaking sobs, tears escaping his eyes to run down his cheeks.

“I’m not good with this stuff, but here goes.” Natasha admits before she places an arm around Tony’s shoulder, pulling him in and hugging him tight. Tony stiffens in shock, tensing within her hold. The tears halt though in their flowing motion down his cheeks, he sniffles, crunching his eyes shut and sighing. 

“Thank you.” It sounds like it pains him, but she knows that he’s sweet and cuddly inside, no matter how cold and sarcastic he makes his exterior seem. He has love for the child lying on the bad inside the room, he shows affection for him. He has a soft side, and she’s glad that someone can bring that out in him. 

They sit there for a while, Tony trying to compose himself, Natasha holding him as he does so. Helen comes out, dressed in dark green scrubs, she smiles sympathetically when she sees them, Tony gazing up to meet her eyes. “Please tell me he’s ok?”

“He’s fine, the bullet only nicked his lung, it collapsed but we went in and we stitched it back up. He’ll be fine, just some rest and some pain meds for a couple of hours and his healing should fix the rest. He’s strong, he’ll be fine. You can even come in and see him if you want, he’s awake.” She smiles and walks forward, patting Tony’s shoulder.

Tony sighs in relief, letting out all the air in his lungs, whilst relieveing himself of all the stress and worry that had built up since he’d heard that Peter had been shot. He didn’t wait to see if anyone was following him, shooting up and racing into the room. Finding his protege layed out on the bed, iv in his arm, pale face and sunken in eyes, a tired smile on his face. “Hey how’re you doing bud?” He asks as he makes his way to Peter’s bedside, slipping into a chair and holding his hand.

Peter smiles, gripping back at Tony’s hand. “I’m ok, just tired. How are you?” 

“I don’t think it matters how I am, I wasn’t the one who was shot.”

He shakes his head, “You’re important too, I can tell you’ve been crying. I’m sorry for worrying you, I didn’t mean to.” 

“Don’t apologise for that, you were shot, i’m pretty sure you’re entitled to not give a shit.” Tony smiles, ruffling Peter’s hair.

Peter blinks tiredly, eyes closing slowly, “I’m tired. Can I sleep now Mr. Stark?” 

“Sure kid.” He smiles, pulling the blankets up to Peter’s chin and stroking his curls until he drifts off. He pulls his chair up further, sitting next to the bed and watching as Peter sleeps peacefully. Natasha does the same, pulling up a chair and sitting on the opposite side. At some point Tony can feel himself drifting, resting his head on the edge of the bed and falling into sleep.

•—•

Natasha stays for a long time, staying and watching as both Peter and Tony sleep, Tony’s head right by where Peter’s hand lays limp on the blanket. She has to admit they look cute together, like father and son, even if biologically they’re not even related. She is one to know, that family doesn’t end with blood, family can come from all kinds of places. She’s glad she’s found hers, and she’s glad he’s found his. 

She’s jolted out of her thoughts when Peter snuffles, rolling his head into the pillow. He blinks his eyes open tiredly, taking in the sight of Tony, sleeping leant against his bed. He looks over to her, smiling. “Hi.” He tries to pull his hand up to wave but it barely budges. 

She smiles back, “Hi to you too.” 

They stare at each other for a while, neither of them saying anything. Until Peter decides to break the silence. “You don’t have to always use violence.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to always use violence.”

She tilts her head in confusion, scrunching her eyebrows and staring at him like he’s grown a second head.

“I- I mean. I know you’re a russian spy, when- when you hacked the shield database and you leaked all the files. I-I know they raised you to be a spy, to be the perfect killer, they conditioned you, they made you into their perfect weapon. But- but you don’t have to be what they made you, you don’t have to result to violence first. You can change.” He’s blushing, obviously embarrassed , but it makes her heart warm with affection. 

“I- I don’t know if i can.” Even to her own ears, the stutter in her voice is shocking.

“You can, you of all people should know what it’s like to find a family and what it’s like to have people on your side that are willing to help you. There are a lot of people who are willing to help you, you don’t have to be what they made you. I’m here, Mr. Stark is here, all of the avengers. You’re not alone. Trust me, I should know, the amount of times Mr. Stark has made me say that to myself.” He smiles weakly, patting her hand in a comforting gesture, chuckling lightly at the joke he makes. 

She smiles back, “Thank you Spider-Man.”

“What? I-i’m not Spider-Man, who’s that? I-i’ve never heard of him. Wha-“ he’s stopped in his stuttered excuses by a long moan, his chest tightening in pain from talking too much.

“Hush маленький паук.” She extends a hand to thread comfortingly through his chocolate strands, the other hand pushing him gently back into the bed. 

He breathes for a few seconds, eyes clenched shut as he calms down. “What does that mean?”

“Little spider. It seems like it fits you, and I have a preference though. If I keep calling you that you have to call me something too. Call me мама паук. That means mama spider. If we’re both spiders, we gotta stick together. You get me?”

“I do.” Peter smiles at her, eyes falling shut once more, “Goodnight мама паук.”

She doesn’t hesitate to keep her hand in his hair, stroking his curls and scratching lightly at his scalp, watching the way he almost purrs, a dopey smile on his face.

“Goodnight маленький паук.”


	5. Bruce Banner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Tony are working in the lab, Bruce comes in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it’s so short. The next one will hopefully be longer, i’ll try and finish that later on today, seeing as it’s 1 in the morning 😂
> 
> Enjoy <3

“Are we allowed to build that new lego set I have after this?” Peter asks Tony, while he answers another question on his thermodynamics homework. 

Tony nods from where he’s stood on the other side of the lab, leaning into look into the inside of one of the Iron Man suits. “Sure, but I ain’t gonna enjoy it. You know those things are made for kids right? I’m a genius who builds full metal exoskeletons, I don’t put small plastic bricks together.” He scoffs, but Peter can tell it’s all playful. Not a hint of actual annoyance in his voice. 

“It may have been made to begin with, with children in mind. But it’s for all ages, most of the boxes say from four to ninety nine now. Lego is supposed to help spark creativity in people, most people have to follow instructions. Us being geniuses could probably make the lego set without having to even look at the instructions. Won’t that be fun?”

“Haha yeah, I was joking Pete. I’d love to make legos with you. I actually never got to do anything like that when I was a kid.”

Peter’s about to respond with a statement about how much he’s starting to despise Tony’s father Howard. When there’s a knock at the door to the lab. “Tony, could I ask you a question about this equation?”

It’s Bruce who enters, clothes in dissaray and a white lab coat thrown over the top. Peter thinks he can make out a coffee stain on the bottom. He’s holding a slightly crumpled notebook, and looking like an outright mess. There are deep dark bags underneath his eyes, the glasses he’s wearing are wonky. His hair tangled and uncombed. 

The only reaction Peter has is to freeze completely in his spot, cheeks blushing. He’s never met Bruce Banner before, but he’s dreamt of it since he was old enough to read his books and understand them. Which was exactly the age of seven, he’d pleaded with Uncle Ben to take him to a bookstore. Where he’d found a book of Bruce’s, it was a science journal about his first experiments with gamma rays. Peter had been completely pulled in, enjoying every word on every page. He’d wished to get it autographed by him, the minute he’d realised he would be involved with the avengers. He always kept a book of Bruce’s in his bag, he was always buying the new editions. He’d created a collection that even the New York library would be impressed by. 

Tony didn’t seem too phased by Bruce’s presence, but then again, he was the best at masking emotions. Peter was panicking internally, stuck holding a pen in mid air. While Tony just smiled widely and inviting, hooking an arm around Bruce’s shoulder when he walked in. Straight past Peter, not even noticing his presence in the lab. Peter guesses it’s because Bruce probably isn’t getting enough sleep, he doesn’t seem very aware of his surroundings. Peter settles for just continuing to answer the questions, hoping Bruce doesn’t notice him. 

“Hey Bruce, what can I help you with?” He peaks over Bruce’s shoulder, inspecting the numbers and letters Bruce has scribbled out on the wrinkled paper. It’s messy as usual, but Tony seems to understand it because his face doesn’t pinch in confusion like it would if he hadn’t understood it. Bruce just waves the notebook even further underneath Tony’s nose, no words needed for Tony to understand he needs help. 

Tony stares at it for a few seconds before pointing a calloused finger at something on the paper. “Ah, you forgot to carry the one. I think that’s it.” Bruce nods in agreement, scribbling with his pencil in order to fix it. 

Peter, not one to miss out on the opportunity to help The Bruce Banner, shuffles out of his chair and stumbles towards Tony and Bruce. He stands in front of them, nodding his head toward the notebook. “Do you mind if I take a look at it?” 

It’s obvious Bruce hadn’t seen him or sensed his presence while he’d walked across the room, snaps his head up. Shock written across his face, eyes wide in confusion. “Who- who are you?” 

His mentor steps forward, wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders. “This Bruce, is my Intern Peter. He’s a genius like me. Say hi.”

“Um- hi?” Bruce lifts his hand up warily, pencil still held between two fingers. He goes to wave, but it’s awkward. Peter just smiles full force, eyes lightin up with wonder and amazement. He steps forward, holding out a hand for Bruce to shake. 

“Hi, i’m Peter. It’s- it’s an honour, i’m like- i’m a big fan. I have like- all of your books. I like to read all of them, there isn’t one that I don’t like or enjoy to be honest. We have your picture up on the wall in our science classroom also! It’s awesome, and it's so awesome to meet you. And I have been like, dreaming of this day since I figured out who you are.” He stops his rambling and stuttering to take in big gulps of air. His cheeks blushing fiercely.

Bruce looks completely shocked, eyes filled with honour and a little bit of happiness. He tucks the pencil he was holding into his pocket before extending his hand and shaking Peter’s firmly. “Um, thank you Peter. It’s- it’s an honour. No one really ever likes me for Bruce Banner, for the scientist. They only like me because I'm the hulk. Except for Tony of course. Just- thank you Peter. It’s an honour to meet you.”

He gives Bruce one of the friendliest smiles he can manage, eyes alight with wonder. Tony pats his shoulder gently, before he speaks up. “Why don’t you go get your book Pete, i’m sure Bruce wouldn’t mind signing it.”

“H-how?”

Tony smirks when Peter blushes up at him, embarrassed and shocked. “I’ve seen you staring at that book and mumbling to yourself. You’re not very secretive, and I'm really observant. Now hurry along, don’t keep Bruce waiting.”

Peter scurries quickly over to his bag, stumbling over his laces a good few times. He rips the book out of his bag, scurrying back to them and bouncing on the tips of his toes in front of Bruce. “Would you sign it?” 

Bruce looks pleasantly startled but nods his head in agreement, whipping out a pen from his pocket. Peter places the book down gently on the workbench, Bruce leaning down to sign it. Once he’s finished writing a message and his autograph, he straightens back up. Peter snatching the book back and holding it protectively against his chest. He’s in seemingly a state of shock for a good couple of minutes before he realises the two other men in the lab are chatting away about some kind of science thing. 

He starts to listen in, before he decides to pipe up. 

They all exchange ideas and theories, Bruce getting progressively more shocked at the expanse of Peter’s knowledge and his intelligence. They’re deep conversation draws to a close after almost a half hour of constant science talk. When they stop Tony walks over to Peter, ruffling his hair gently before asking. “How would you like to be a science bro with me and Bruce?”

“I- I can?” He looks hesitantly between Tony and Bruce, Tony’s about to reassure Peter before Bruce pipes up. 

“Of course Peter, I've never seen someone your age so smart. You’re a very bright kid Peter, I would be glad to have more talks with you about science. If you would like to?” His eyes are filled with a kindness that warms Peter’s heart.

“Yeah! I-i mean, It- it would be an honour to talk with you about science.” He nods frantically, bouncing on his heels.

Tony steps over, wrapping his arm around him once more. “How about we wrap up here, I’ve gotta chat with Bruce for a while and I bet May’s missing you. You can come back tomorrow Pete, and us three can talk until our throats dry up. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good Mr. Stark.” He nods before turning to wrap his arms around Tony, who returns the hug squeezing firmly. 

“Bye kiddo. See ya tomorrow.” 

He makes sure to send a timid wave in Bruce’s direction, before he slings his bag over his shoulder and hps out of the room. As soon as he’s passed through the doorway, out of sight and hearing distance of Tony and Bruce. He lets out a sigh, finally letting the panic seep from his body. Leaving him strung out and exhausted. But happy, finally having gotten his autograph. He peels open the book, staring at the messy scrawl of Bruce’s handwriting. The message reads:

_ To Peter,  _

_ It was nice meeting you, it might seem awkward but you have a striking resemblance to Tony. It was nice to find someone who could keep up with me and Tony, I expect to have a lot of chats with you. I want you to know you’re welcome to come to my lab whenever you feel like it. I can tell we’re going to be very good friends.  _

_ Bruce Banner _

_ P.S. if you ever want to read one of my new books, just ask and I can get you one for free _

Peter smiles, completely happy. 

⎊🕷⎊🕷⎊🕷⎊

Bruce smiles over at where Tony’s stood leaning against a table, sipping coffee. “He’s a good kid.”

Tony stares back, meeting his eyes with a sincerity that’s very rare for him. 

“He sure is.”

  
  
  



End file.
